


Identify

by Dorky_art



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Trans Male Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorky_art/pseuds/Dorky_art
Summary: Zayn Malik, born Nazli Malik, auditions for xfactor so he can be someone else for a change. But things get a little more complicated when he gets put in a band instead. Zayn does his best to go stealth, but with the growing popularity of the band it gets harder than he anticipated. Or the one where zayn is a trans boy going stealth Even in front his band mates.





	1. Chapter 1

My binder was getting too tight. I needed a new one.  
"Nazli, c'mon! We don't want you to be late!" Mum was probably walking out the door.  
"I've changed my mind. I'm not doing it!" I called back.  
"You most certainly are!" I could hear her shuffling to my room. She knocked on the door, but opened it before I could respond.  
"I'm not doing it. I don't want to anymore." I laid back in bed.  
"Nazli, I-"  
"Zayn." I didn't look at her.  
"I don't understand. You've been so excited for this. This is your dream." She meant well, and I knew it, but I just didn't know how to explain.  
"I know," I replied, "but I just can't do it. I can't go out there, and have everyone judge me. I get enough of that already."  
"Is this about what happened last week at school? I told you not to listen to him."  
Word had gotten out last week about my audition. I was trying to keep it secret, but someone must've heard me talk about it with my friend Miles. Trevor, who has been on my back since I came out, decided to point out that I would have to be a girl on television, as I legally still am one.  
"It's not that, Mum." It was.  
"Then what is it?" She put a hand on my shoulder.  
"I just can't do it. It was a stupid idea. I'm not going to get very far anyway."  
"Not with that attitude you won't!" She was using her Mum Voice. I hate when she does that.  
"That's such a cliché thing to say," I told her.  
"I don't care," She replied. "It's true. If you keep your eyes on winning then you have a better chance of actually doing it. If you mope around, with no confidence then you won't get past the front doors."  
"That's the plan," I mumbled. She stood up.  
"You are going to finish getting dressed, you are going to go downstairs, we are going to the arena, and you are going to blow the judges away. Is that clear?" She was a little intimidating when she used her Mum Voice. Not as much as when I was smaller, but intimidating still.  
"Yes, ma'am." No one says no to Mum.  
"Good, now hurry up. We are probably going to be stuck in traffic, but if you hurry we might be at the near front of it." She left my room.

The arena was packed. I felt my stomach flip. How was I supposed to do this?  
"The sign-in desk is over there," Mum pointed to the desk across the room. "Think you can sign yourself in? Me, Baba, and your sisters are going to find our seats."  
"Okay, I'll see you when it's done." I wasn't sure how to handle being by myself in this crowd of people. It was almost suffocating.  
I kept my head low, and made my way to the desk.  
There was a line. Wonderful.  
There were three people working the desk, and all three lines were fairly long. I got in the shortest one and waited my turn.  
After about a half hour of waiting, I was next in line. The woman at the desk called me up, and my heart seemed to stop. Was I really doing this?  
"Name, please." She said. It was clear she was exhausted already.  
"N-Nazli Malik?" I hated that.  
"Okay, here we go," she handed me some papers and a clipboard. "Fill these out, bring them back, and we will give you your number."  
"Thanks." I mumbled and took the papers. I looked around the lobby for a place to sit. Everything was pretty much taken, so I sat in a corner on the floor.  
The first question was my name. The second, the name of the act. In the second blank, I wrote "Zayn Malik." It felt good. Maybe I didn't have to be a girl onstage at all.  
I finished up my paperwork and started back to the desk, looking over the papers as I walked. Before I could process what happened, I was being shoved. I dropped the clipboard.  
"Oh I'm sorry, man." The boy said. I picked up the clipboard and looked up at him.  
"It's okay, I wasn't watching," I responded quickly.  
He flipped his hair from his eyes, apologized again, and went on his way. I continued to the desk. The woman took my paperwork and handed me a sticker with a long number on it. I thanked her and sat back down in the corner.

165616

I stared at the number. This was really happening. I was really doing this.  
Shit.  
I was really doing this.  
I peeled off the backing and put the sticker on my shirt. Not long after, a man came up and yelled to the lobby.  
"If you have a number, follow me!" Several people and their families got up and followed the man backstage.  
The dressing room was large, slightly smaller than the lobby.  
I didn't want to be here on my own. I called Mum.  
"Mum? E-everyone's families and stuff are back here. I was wondering if you could come too?"  
"Sure, I'll be down. Where is it?" She asked. She sounded like she was hoping I'd ask her to come.  
"Hold on." I put the phone to my shoulder, and nervously walked up to the security guard. "Sir? Would it be possible for my Mum to come back here? She's at her seat with my family."  
"One moment." He started talking into his radio. I put the phone back to my ear.  
"The security is checking."  
"Take me to them, and you can bring her back." The guard spoke. I told Mum I was coming to get her and hung up.

* * *

I wasn't sure how to feel. The judges were harsh, especially Simon. There was so much talent here; people came from all over the UK to do this. Did I even stand a chance?  
"Okay, you're next." Mum messed with my hair. "Just breathe, and remember that no matter what happens, we love you."  
"Thanks, Mum." The man that brought us to the dressing room tapped my shoulder.  
"You're on, kid."  
"Good luck, sweetie!" Mum pushed me out. The judges were looking at the papers on their large desk when I walked out.  
"And what's your name?" Simon spoke. I couldn't breathe.  
"M-my name is Zayn." They were staring at me. Everyone was staring at me. I couldn't move. Then I blacked out.  
When I came to my Mum was hugging me backstage. "What happened," I asked her.  
"What do you mean, 'what happened?' you got three yesses!"  
"I did?" I was in shock. Three? All three?  
"Yes! We have to go see Baba and sisters!" Mum was ecstatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I'm not sure how often I'll update but since winter break is right around the corner hopefully it'll be often!


	2. Chapter 2

"Zayn," Simon found me hiding backstage. "What are you doing back here?"  
"I can't go out there, Simon. I can't dance," I replied.  
"That's what the choreographer is here to do, Zayn. The whole purpose of this is to teach you." He had a point.  
"No, you don't understand. I can't dance." I was stalling trying to come up with an excuse.  
"Why not," he asked. He looked slightly annoyed, but his tone didn't show it. Although his face always looked annoyed. Maybe that just came with being old.  
"I just..I can't, okay?" I could feel the lump in my throat rising. I really didn't want to cry.

Boys don't cry.

"Look," Simon put a hand on my shoulder, "Zayn I know this is new to you, but if this is going to work you have to be open to new experiences. Just try this once and if you still really hate it we will try and work something out, alright?"  
"Fine," I gave in.  
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't take my binder off; how would I explain that? "Oh, yeah I have tits, but they're man tits, so just pretend they aren't there."  
I groaned quietly to myself.  
Simon helped me to the main stage the band was already practicing without me. They were a little out of sync, but the choreographer didn't seem too surprised.  
"There he is," Liam smiled. He was the first to notice me.  
When the band was formed after boot camp I was surprised to see Liam there. After slamming into me in the lobby on audition day, I'd thought I'd seen the last of the boy. But here he was. He was always there. In my room, in my bathroom, in my space. Although I guess that made sense considering we shared a room in the XFactor house, but that was beside the point.  
"Y-Yep. Here I am," I laughed rubbing the back of my head.  
"Let's take five," The choreographer snapped. "Liam, you show Zayn what we learned so far, and then we can continue."  
"Yes, Sir," Liam jokingly saluted. The choreographer rolled his eyes and went to find his water bottle.  
Louis and Harry sat on the floor and started talking, and Niall mumbled something about a vending machine before wandering off.  
Louis was a loud one, alright. He was very animated and always seemed to be screaming. Besides that, though, he was quite the charmer. If he wasn't causing mischief he was smooth talking his way into something. He must've been a hit with the ladies.  
"So, where were you," Liam asked.  
"Backstage." I shifted my weight from foot to foot.  
"Why?"  
"So, how does the dance go?" He threw his hands up in defense.  
"Okay, I get it. If you don't want to talk about it you don't have to," he smiled. I thanked him.  
He started to explain the moves, but I quickly tuned out his words. He had nice teeth, I noticed. That was a weird thing to notice about a person, but he did. His hair was clinging to his forehead and starting to curl up a bit. I wondered how long they'd been practicing before Simon found me.  
"Got it?" Liam looked at me curiously.  
"Uhm..yeah. I think so," I lied.  
"Great!" He took a sip from his water bottle and gave a thumbs up to the choreographer.  
I'd made it pretty clear very quickly that I didn't know what Liam had told me to do. I tried to just follow what everyone else was doing, but that was a lot harder than I had originally thought. I stumbled over my own feet and awkwardly flailed my arms around to try to match everyone else. I was completely lost.  
About twenty minutes in, I could feel my chest getting tight. I ignored it. Another fifteen went by, and it was hurting to breathe.

Take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off!

"Uhm, excuse me?" I waved my hand to the choreographer, who's name I learned to be Sean. "Are we going to be done soon?" He looked at his watch.  
"I guess so," he sighed. "The next group is to be here soon. You all are dismissed."  
That was all the permission I needed as I darted off of the stage to find a bathroom. I picked up my duffle bag from my earlier hiding place, and upon instinct pushed open the women's bathroom door slamming it behind me. I peeled off my shirt and quickly started to take my binder off. I took my arm out of one hole and tried to work my other arm out, too. I heard a tiny tearing sound, and froze.

Oh no.

I craned my neck to search the constricting fabric for a fatal tear. I didn't see one. The stitching had become a bit looser, but that was all. I sighed in relief. I continued to try and shimmy out of my binder, but I couldn't. One arm was splayed awkwardly above my head, the elbow still in the arm hole and the other was in the binder with me pressed against my side. I was stuck. I attempted to shift my arms around, but it hurt to move them.  
My breathing quickened, and tears started to blur my vision. I was trapped. I couldn't call anyone for help. I had nowhere to go. 

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Boys don't cry. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Boys don't cry.

I felt lightheaded, and tears started running down my cheeks. 

Stupid, stupid, stop crying, stop crying.

This was bad. This was really, really bad. I couldn't breathe. Where did the air go? I couldn't see in front of me; my binder was in the way. I backed up against the wall, and stumbled over my duffle bag. I slid down the wall and started to sob.  
"Is everything okay in there," A voice outside the door called. I recognized that voice. "You're making an awful lot of noise."  
"It's fine! Everything is fine!" I shouted back.

Please go away.

"Zayn? Is that you I hear in there? What are you doing in the women's toilet?" That was a very good question that I could not answer.  
"Uh..the men's was locked," I offered. I hoped he'd take it.  
"Mate, are you okay? You sound upset." The doorknob started to turn.  
"Don't come in!" I was trying to sound as less pitiful as possible. It clearly wasn't coming off that way. He opened the door anyway.  
"Don't be weird. What's going on with yo-" he froze. I heard the door close, but I couldn't see anything.  
"Louis," I called quietly.  
"A-Are you stuck?" I could hear his footsteps getting closer. "Let me help."  
His hand grabbed my wrist and helped my arm out of the arm hole before gripping the bottom of my binder and pulling it off of me. I tucked my knees to my chest. I felt so exposed.  
"Thank you," I mumbled. My face was red, and my eyes were puffy.  
"Here's your bag." He held it out to me and I snatched it from him, desperate for a shirt.  
I shoved my binder in my bag and grabbed my bra. Louis turned around. Such a gentleman. I put on my bra and a shirt, then pulled on my Baba's sweatshirt. I told him I'd taken it so I could have something of his while I was gone. Really though, it was because it hid my breasts.  
"Y-You can turn around now." I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and kept my head low.  
Louis turned around and did the same.  
"So," he quietly started. This was new. "You're a girl, then?"  
"No." I snapped.  
"But yo-" I cut him off  
"I look like on but I'm not one."I stared at my shoes. I probably looked terrible, but I couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror.  
"So..so you're transgender then?" The word still felt foreign to me. I'd only actually said it out loud a couple of times, and to hear someone saying when referring to me was just strange. I nodded to his question.  
"Am I the last to know this?" His eyebrows came together, and he looked confused.  
"No," I squeaked. "You're the first."  
"I won't tell anyone," he promised after a moment of silence. I stumbled out a thank you. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here. Back to your dorm."  
I nodded and he slung my bag over his shoulder, and put his arm around me before helping me out of the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Im finally on AO3!


End file.
